


England's Motorway

by HawkeTheKasbah



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: And I thought it would be good, England's Motorway, Irish music, Irish songs make me angsty, It Chrobin, It's Male Morgan y'all, M/M, Mentioned sort of death, More of a bummer than anything else really, Sort of AUish?, Well - Freeform, Well I tried, What is with me I am writing angst, i mean if you squint - Freeform, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-15 11:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8054029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkeTheKasbah/pseuds/HawkeTheKasbah
Summary: So uh this is a songfic, more or less. Which is sad, as usually I detest songfics. They break up a story with lyrics, make it choppy and pull me out of the story. So this is more based on a song, I suppose. Best version by far is Blackthorn's and don't let anyone tell you any different.





	England's Motorway

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to this song way too many times, which is how this was born.  
> [Blackthorn's Version of England's Motorway](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fapExF64Wqc)  
> Chrom tries to explain to Morgan why his other father is no longer around.  
> (Morgan is a boy for purposes of the song. And I like it better that way because I suck. Fuck canon ;))  
> Post Grima  
> Don't worry, everything's still shitty. Promise.

_Oh then come my little son and I will tell you what we'll do_

_Undress yourself and get into bed and a tale I'll tell to you_

_It's all about your daddy, he's a man we seldom see_

_For he's had to work far away from home, away from you and me._

  


"Come here Morgan," Chrom said as he led his best friend's son through the house towards his bedroom. "It's time for bed."

Morgan, though young he was, understood enough to wonder why it was now Chrom who watched over him, not his own father. He allowed himself to be led to the door of his room, but no further, for when Chrom opened the door, he crossed his skinny little arm over his chest and fixed Chrom with a look of determination that forcibly reminded Chrom of his father.

"Where's Daddy?" He asked childish voice, still managing to sound stern. He would get his answer this time.

Chrom sighed. Robin's son was so like his father in so many ways, so ready to take charge, so determined. He'd been avoiding the topic, putting it off as long as he could and shoving it into the darkest recesses of his mind. He knew that it would do no good, he knew that it was unfair to the children, but it was simply too painful for him to even think about. He did what he could: he slapped on a smile for the children and would cry himself to sleep at night, clutching the pillow that had long since lost Robin's scent.

"Come here Morgan. I'll tell you what, get dressed for bed and I'll tell you about your father," Chrom said softly. Oh, how he had dreaded this day. It had come far too soon for his liking. Far too soon...

Morgan, deciding that these were agreeable terms, nodded and was in his pajamas and under the covers in hardly any time at all, waiting for Chrom to sit.

Chrom hesitantly sat down on the side of the bed, looking at little Morgan and bracing himself. He would have to be strong telling Morgan at least, he owed him that much.

"You know that we don't see your father very much anymore, right?" Chrom started off simple, trying to find a way to work up to what he would have to say. It would be difficult. _He_ still had trouble dealing with it, and he didn't want the child before him to have to deal with anything more difficult than splinters, or how he would catch the biggest and the prettiest butterfly, finally beating Lucina.

Morgan nodded. "We don't see him anymore. Where did he go?"

Chrom swallowed thickly. "He had to go away. We won't be able to see him for a long while. But in spite of that Morgan, remember him. Remember that he's still your father and that he loves you with all of his heart, no matter where he is or what he's doing."

Morgan looked up at Chrom, seemingly confused. "Why is he going to be gone so long? Why can't he come home?"

"We would love to have him home, Morgan. We'd love to have him around. Nothing would make me happier. But beggars cannot be choosers, and it falls to him to do what must be done."

Morgan was beginning to understand it seemed, a rather distraught expression creeping its way onto his face, as though he could almost grasp what was going on, but it was just barely out of reach, taunting him just as it taunted Chrom.

"What if I want him to come home? What if I want him to be with me? What if I get lonely? What if I get scared? He said that he would always be there for me..." A steady stream of tears made their way down Morgan's face, causing Chrom to pull Morgan closer to him and wrap him in a comforting embrace.

"I'm so sorry Morgan," he whispered. "I understand that you're scared. I understand. He'll be back someday, but until then you have to be strong for him, okay? Show him how strong you've become."

Morgan nodded. They laid together in silence broken only by Morgan's quiet sniffling. Chrom had almost thought Morgan to be asleep by the time Morgan opened his mouth again.

"When will he come home?" He asked.

Chrom let out a long sigh. "Soon, I hope. I can't be certain." Morgan, if he was even still awake enough to register Chrom's response, took this fairly well, snuggling into Chrom's embrace and closing his puffy eyes. The sounds of silent breathing filled the room.

Chrom stayed with Morgan even after he'd fallen asleep, just listening to the child's soft breaths. He hugged Morgan close to himself and let out a nearly inaudible sigh as sleep began to creep over him, helping to dull the pain.

_I hope that he comes home soon, I truly do. Until them I must be strong. For them. For me. For him._

  


_But remember laddie, he's still your Da_

_Though he's far, far away_

_In the snow and sleet, all hours of the week_

_On England's Motorway._

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm still sort of kind of editing this, but for the most part I'm sort of happy with it.


End file.
